Some People Just Can't Stand The Wait
by The Illustrious Crackpot
Summary: Yes, it HAD to be that night.  And that store, too.  Really, who WOULDN'T steal one?


_A/N: This fanfic's a bit late, considering the actual date of the event this story concerns, but at that time I wasn't as much into this fandom, and only just recently came up with this idea...anyhow, it should be close enough that everyone will still be able to remember it._

**Some People Just Can't Stand The Wait**

(The Illustrious Crackpot)

..._Bong! Bong! Bong!_

At the last stroke of ten PM, the clerk yawned, stretching his arms with a loud cracking noise. Ushering the last customers out of the shop, the duck firmly shut the door, then moved on to inspecting the premises and double-locking the register. Once the next day's display had been set up, he slipped off his uniform, gathered his personal effects and placed them carefully in his suitcase.

A few minutes later he turned the lights off, putting the "Closed" sign in the window just before locking the automatic door behind him. Flipping open a small keypad on the outside wall, the duck activated the security systems, and was about to shrug on his coat when his eye was caught by a flier taped to the shop's window. He didn't even need to reread it for that familiar giddy feeling to start bubbling up again from the pits of his stomach.

"Tomorrow's the big day," he grinned excitedly, placing his hat on his head and starting off down the street.

All became utterly quiet once the soft flapping of the duck's feet disappeared around a corner, and for a moment the neighborhood was still. Then—

_Zzzt!_

In a small sputter of electricity, the keypad's "Power" light went out, and nearly half of the buttons popped cleanly off the console. A pair of blue rubber boots squeaked against the pavement as their owner dropped off the roof of the shop, his gloved fingertips sparking. The shadowy figure—not very tall, and somewhat ratlike in appearance—crept up to the door, squinting at the lock through a pair of thick goggles. He snapped his fingers. The door groaned, its frame bulging outward as it tried to open despite its restraining padlock. The figure glowered, crossing his arms and tapping his feet impatiently. Then, with a final push, the lock burst to pieces and the door flew wide open.

Within a second the figure had darted inside, the door shutting exhaustedly after him. The figure waited anxiously, crouched in the darkness, then, after a few more seconds of continued silence, gave a sigh of relief and wiped a handkerchief over his forehead. His helmet sparked unexpectedly, causing the handkerchief to momentarily catch fire, but with a yelp and some hurried stomping, the premature blaze was put out. Tense once again, the figure glanced furtively around the interior of the pitch-black room, but, once again finding himself the only occupant, relaxed.

Reaching into his pocket, the figure withdrew a small lightbulb and raised it above his head. Charged by the electricity humming through its carrier, the bulb brightened, casting flickering shadows across the entirety of the small store. The figure blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the light, then began to scan the shelves. His attention was soon grabbed by the large display in the middle of the room, and his face lit up—_literally_, to a certain extent. Nearly dropping his lightbulb, the figure scrambled towards the display, snatching one of the colorfully-patterned boxes off the pile with an excited squeal.

"At last! At _last!!_" Megavolt rejoiced, jumping up and down and nearly crushing the box in an impassioned hug. "After _so long_, all my waiting has FINALLY paid off! Ohhh, I can't WAIT 'til I can get home and—"

"_NOT SO FAST, EVILDOER!_"

A smoke bomb went off just behind Megavolt, enveloping the felon in a haze of harmless (yet quite dramatic) fumes. Megavolt yelped in surprise, whirling around and desperately juggling the package between both arms to keep from dropping it.

"I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!" boomed a theatrically deep voice, which seemed to be coming from a dark shape within the purple haze. "I AM THE LABEL THAT READS 'BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED'! I AM—"

"_Darkwing Duck!_" Megavolt spluttered panickedly at the costumed mallard, clutching the stolen package even more possessively once his composure returned. "It's MINE, I tell you! _You're not taking it away from me!!_"

The smoke had since cleared, and the obviously aggravated superhero crossed his arms. "Hey, you're supposed to let me finish my introduction!" Darkwing snapped, a bit like a disappointed child. He cleared his throat, striking a pose as his cape fluttered in a nonexistent breeze. "I AM—_DARKWING DUCK!_"

Leaving time for a dramatic pause, Darkwing pointed a futuristic-looking black gun at Megavolt. "Now put that back where you found it and I _might_ let you off easy, Sparky."

Megavolt hissed at him, upper lip drawn back in a feral snarl. His fingertips tightened around the box. "You'll never get your hands on it, Duck! It's _mine!_"

Darkwing gave a false sigh, a self-satisfied grin creeping across his face as his finger tightened around the trigger. "Well, if _nobody_ wanted to do it the hard way, I'd be out of a job. _Suck gas!_"

Diving to the side, Megavolt shot a spark of electricity at the gun, which exploded half a second before it was able to fire. Darkwing yelped, tossing it away as distressingly large quantities of knockout gas began seeping through the cracks.

"Figures it'd only blow up once the warranty ran out," Darkwing muttered bitterly, glancing around wildly for a glimpse of Megavolt. "Now where would that masterfully moronic menace be hiding...?"

A sharp ripping sound suddenly emanated from behind the stack of boxes—though the bright glow of the lightbulb was no small clue itself. As he peered over the top of the tower, Darkwing was able to see Megavolt wrestling with the tape securing his own package.

"C'mon, you stupid piece of junk!" the villain snapped, having seemingly forgotten his perilous situation. "How much tape do they gotta put _onto_ these things, anyw..."

He trailed off as he noticed Darkwing's mocking smile hanging upside-down in front of him.

"Having a little siesta, are we?"

Megavolt accidentally dropped his lightbulb, plunging them both into darkness. There was a loud scuffling of boots which quickly turned into a regular _slap slap slap_ from various points above Darkwing's head, and it didn't take much imagination (or even the occasional sparks from Megavolt's helmet) to figure that the felon had escaped up the stairs. Not even bothering to strike a match, Darkwing dashed after him—

_SPLAT!_

—and slammed against a wall.

Luckily, he managed to land almost on top of the lightswitch, and, after the store was once again properly illuminated, he was back in hot pursuit.

"CEASE! DESIST! _KNOCK IT OFF!_" Darkwing demanded, quickly becoming short of breath from ducking and weaving around the second floor's various displays. Admittedly Megavolt was running more slowly than usual, as he was still clawing at his box like a man possessed, but he still knew this area better than Darkwing did and had managed to keep several steps ahead. The masked mallard grumbled beneath his breath, willing his legs into high gear. "YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THAT!"

"JUST WATCH ME!" Megavolt shot back, nestling his prize into the crook of one arm as he aimed another bolt of electricity at his pursuer. Darkwing jumped above it, but soon tripped over another stack of boxes and tumbled to the ground. Seizing his opportunity, Megavolt sprinted towards the wall-to-wall window at the back of the room, and, just as Darkwing was pushing himself up onto his elbows, the Electric Evildoer had crashed straight through the glass and was plummeting to the street below.

"He's either brilliant or a total nutjob," remarked Darkwing, hurrying towards the shattered window pane. By the dull glow of a streetlight, he could see Megavolt stagger to his feet amid the pieces of shattered glass, still clutching the box and dashing off in the kind of straight line that gets people arrested for drunk driving.

"...I'm opting for the latter."

Sucking in a deep breath, Darkwing Duck leapt through the hole in the shattered window, grasping the edges of his cape to billow it out behind him like a parachute. Unfortunately, one of the corners caught on a jagged piece of glass in the windowframe, and, after a heart-shattering _riiiiiip!_, the caped crusader hit the pavement with a bone-shattering _thud_.

After a short break to regain consciousness, Darkwing jumped to his feet and dashed around the corner, roaring back again seconds later on an extravagant motorcycle. Its tires squealed as he made a sharp left onto a random side street, searching frantically for his quarry.

Megavolt was soon discovered crouched in a back alley, once again tearing madly at the tape holding down the box's flaps. He was practically foaming at the mouth by then, and he'd only just succeeded in removing the last sticky piece with his oversized teeth when he found himself the target of the Ratcatcher's headlight.

"GIVE IT UP, MEGAVOLT!" Darkwing commanded, skidding to a halt in front of the cornered villain, though remaining tense in case he had to gun the engines again. "YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT 'TIL _TOMORROW_ LIKE **EVERYBODY ELSE**—IF THEY LET YOU OUT ON _PAROLE_, THAT IS!"

As Darkwing watched, a sudden change overcame Megavolt. His face began to burn red. His shoulders hunched up towards his neck. The sparse hairs poking out from beneath his helmet began to crackle with static electricity.

And then, with his vocal cords as his medium, he exploded.

"_**WAIT?!?!?**_" screamed Megavolt indignantly, leaping to his feet and shaking his fists. "WHAT DO **YOU** KNOW ABOUT WAITING, _DORKWING DIPSTICK?!_ **I'VE WAITED ALL MY LIFE FOR THIS, AND YOU'RE NOT GONNA STOP ME FROM GETTING WHAT I **_**DESERVE!!**_"

Darkwing sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "Well, you walked right into _that_ one."

He would have followed up the comment, but by then Megavolt had put down his package and physically tackled the motorbike, sending thousands of volts of live electricity coursing through the frame. Seeing as the Ratcatcher was _metal_, this meant, of course, that quite a lot of the voltage ended up transferring straight into Darkwing. (And Megavolt too, though he didn't seem to notice quite as much.)

"_AYIYIYIYIIYEEEE__**AAAAAAAAARGH!!!!**_"

After a long, _long_ moment, both crimefighter and criminal collapsed, panting and sooty, onto the pavement. The Ratcatcher, still sizzling slightly, stood a moment more before falling rather neatly apart.

Struggling to regain the upper hand, Darkwing shook his head groggily, ears ringing and eyes not quite seeing anything in particular. "H...had en-en-e-_nough_, Mega-v-v-volt?"

Megavolt shuddered convulsively, then glared at Darkwing, having recovered much more quickly due to the nature of his powers. "_Nooo_," he began in a low, dangerous (yet still cracked) voice, then gave way to the inevitable pun. "I'm just getting _charged up!_"

In a move reminiscent of the more famous Westerns, Megavolt whipped a small yellow gun out of his belt and shot two bolts of electricity at Darkwing, who gave off a small "YIPE!" and ducked. (That phrase being Darkwing's reciprocal pun.) The daring do-gooder rolled to the side, avoiding three more blasts that nearly singed his tailfeathers.

Making sure to keep his eyes on Megavolt's gun, Darkwing hopped to his feet and backed into the shadows of the alley. Megavolt grinned, clearly enjoying this, and advanced menacingly.

"You can't keep dodging forever, _Dorkwing!_"

At last a shot grazed Darkwing's hand, giving rise to a strangely high-pitched "YOW!!" from the caped crusader. Darkwing hopped backwards, shaking the tinglingly numb appendage vigorously, and felt his level of panic starting to rise just an _eeeeeeeeensey_ bit.

"Don't get so cocky, _Sparky!_" Darkwing bluffed. Unfortunately, he could see no easy way out of this situation—he'd hoped that there would be a garbage can or some other weaponlike item lying in the alley, but it was completely empty. Save for Megavolt's box...except _that_ was behind the evildoer.

One of Megavolt's eyes twitched, and he clenched his teeth angrily. "_Don't—call—me—__**SPARKY!**_"

Darkwing pulled down the edges of his fedora as though hoping it could offer him some kind of protection—but instead of a deadly _ZZZZT!_, all he heard was a strangled gulp and a _thump_. Daring to open one eye, the masked mallard saw Megavolt sprawled on the ground, unconscious, with a robust-looking duck in aviator's uniform standing just behind him.

"Wow," Launchpad marveled, staring at his fingers as he flexed them. "I guess there _is_ a reason that nerve-pinch-thingy always works on _Star Trek_!"

Darkwing coughed, trying to assume nonchalance as he brushed down the sleeves of his suit. And, he hoped, revived his bruised ego. "Well done, LP. But I _did_ have the whole thing under control, you know."

Launchpad blinked confusedly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Really? From what I saw up in the ThunderQuack, you were kinda—"

"_Merely a diversionary tactic to throw Megavolt off-guard_," Darkwing insisted through gritted teeth. "However, for the most part, your method worked just as well. Next time, though, don't interfere!"

The aviator shrugged, grinning amiably. "Sure thing, DW. You're the hero!"

Within moments, though, his attention (always a bit sparsely applied) was distracted by the sight of the half-open box lying by Megavolt's head. "Hey, izzat what I think it is?" he gasped, picking it up and looking it over. "These things don't go on sale 'til tomorrow! _That's_ what Megavolt was stealin'?"

"Yup," Darkwing affirmed. He looked down at Megavolt's comatose form and sighed.

"Some people just _have_ to be the first one with an iPhone."


End file.
